"say what you want to say. say what you need to say..." ~ john mayer

i've been told i should write a blog. this is me writing a blog - mostly about nothing. well...at least nothing that's mind-blowing or life-changing. furthermore, there are no rules and no limitations to this blog. lawd only knows i've never been a rule follower! i suppose in some ways that this is my opportunity to just say what it is i want and need to say, and for those of you who know me best...i'm probably not going to apologize for it.

if you've ever just wanted to unload, vent, bitch, moan and whine about life and how much it sucks kaka, and not care to be judged while just putting your feelings out there...here's your chance. or perhaps you want to tell everyone what blows your hair back and what a great day it is to be alive...bring it on! (i haven't always been a pessimist)! wink-wink. nudge-nudge. so read on my fellow bloggers!

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04 August 2010

Good Thing I'm Not A Clutz

i don't know why i insist on being the biggest clutz on the face of the planet! for some reason i was walking up my front steps and i guess i just subconsciously felt the need to trip and fall while my hands were full so i wasn't even able to break my landing or prevent spilling a full glass of chai all over my pink dvf bag. wtf. i guess this is why my stupid ass should not be allowed to have nice things. good thing i wasn't completely humiliated! i suppose the humiliation factor tends to dissipate after about the fifth millionth time you've fallen on your face. what? another bruise in some inconspicuous place? you DON'T say! geezus.

yes. i've taken many plunges in my lifetime...quite possibly triple the amount of times than the average normal human being who pays attention and cares not to bear the horrified stares of onlookers. i think the ultimate humiliation was at kauffman field while walking down the stairs with two full glasses of beer (it was the seventh inning...AND i was very thirsty). and...well you know it makes total sense to wear high heels to a baseball game! DUH. my stupid spastic ass tripped and fell forward and somehow...simultaneously all i could think about was NOT spilling my beer. i mean...forget the fact that the incident left me with holes in my jeans and blood pouring out of my knees. the usher came over quickly to assist me and all i could think about was, you could've helped me by breaking my fall! so all i said was, these stairs are very dangerous! and then there was the group of young men who at first looked at me like, wtf, and then applauded upon my announcement that i hadn't spilled my beer! life has a way of playing cruel tricks on you but then again, seeing as how i still had beer to consume for the rest of the game, life also has a way of making it up to you.

what's that you ask about my last new year's eve in denver? oh yeah. thanks for nothing jason. i proceeded to end the night getting annihilated and then wandering off from my friends. i think there was an argument involved at some point and then they just let me wander off. lawd only knows how belligerent i can be. anyway. i ended up calling an old ex to assist me in my endeavor home and he escorted me back to his car. unfortunately, he wasn't in the mood to be gentlemanly because he let me walk to the passenger side of the car (without his assistance), with ice covering the parking lot. did i mention i was also wearing heels and a dress? hey. i'm short. i wear heels as much as possible. and let's face it...i wasn't blessed in the height department or the boob department. so jason (the ex) decides to proceed to get in the driver's seat and let me slowly slide around to the passenger side. he was already buckling his seatbelt as i attempted to trek (i do believe there was a lot more flailing than trekking), around his car with his trunk as my stabilizer when WHOOPSIE! there i was...flat on my back with the world watching me flash them my kooch. at least jason was kind enough to get out of his car immediately to help peel my drunk ass of the ice, (of course, all the while laughing his ass off). later he told me that he was watching me in his rearview mirror, looked down to buckle his seatbelt, heard a thunk and then looked back up and i wasn't there. WTF. DOUBLE WTF.

yeah. yeah. yeah. laugh at my expense. that's fine. perhaps the cruelest thing that life will ever deal me is the fact that i'm a stupid idiot who can't walk straight even while not having consumed any alcohol. or perhaps my fate in life and the cruelty of it all is the fact that i'm short and that i have no boobs to really speak of. whatever it is...i'll continue marching forward when i'm not tripping over myself with my head held high, and apparently, with holes in my jeans, bloody knees, and inexplicable bruises.

and p.s. those guys who watched me save my beer at kauffman? well after the game as we were tailgating in the parking lot, and i was making my way to a port-a-potty...they saw me and gave me all kinds of free beer. and then asked if i would take a picture with them because that was some of the "coolest shit" they had ever seen.

and no. i'm not a lush.

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